


Not Like the Movies

by paperwar



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Asian Character, Bad Sex, Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing one's virginity is a lot more complicated in real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Like the Movies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [factorielle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/gifts).



"This isn't going to work, is it?" Hanai asks, hopeful and desperate at the same time. He's sitting on his bed, erection obvious through his pants, hands kneading the blanket. He won't look up.

Shinooka's perched on the other end of the bed, knees up with one arm draped across them awkwardly, as if she wanted to draw herself closed but couldn't quite make herself do it. She's staring off to the side, a little scowl on her face.

"We don't have to -- I mean, if you don't want to," she mutters, trying not to sound resentful and not quite succeeding.

There was silence, for a few seconds that felt like an hour, before Hanai shakes his head and said, "Look, this was your idea -- "

Shinooka's head jerks up. "I know! But it's not me who's trying to back out, is it?" She gives in and draws her arms across her knees, pillowing her head on them.

"I still don't understand why you have to do this," Hanai says.

She squeezes her eyes shut. "I just wanted to try it," she says, suddenly fierce. "You boys think you're the only ones who have hormones?" She gives a short, bitter laugh. "Does Tajima think he's the only one who masturbates?"

Hanai makes a small choking noise. "Do you mean you... do you... ?" He flushes, unable to finish the sentence.

She lifts her head to look at him, eyebrows raised. "Oh, no, of course not. I'm a good girl, right? Good girls never do anything like that. Good girls never _want_ anything like that."

Hanai's blush deepens, and he shifts uneasily as he becomes aware that his erection, which had started to flag, has returned. "Oh," is all he manages.

Shinooka switches to a cross-legged position. Leaning her chin on one elbow, she says, "I thought it would be you because I trust you not to be a jerk." She fiddles with her hair a moment, then continues. "And also, I figured it would be your first time too, so you wouldn't laugh at me."

"What?" Hanai snaps. "Why would you think that?" Not that it wasn't the truth, but was he really the type of guy that everyone just assumed was a virgin?

"Oh, come on," she says, giving him a little slap on the shoulder. "You're the captain. You're responsible. You take care of everyone and try to keep them from flunking off the team." She lets her hand drop lightly onto his knee. "You're the kind of guy that all the girls think is cute" -- here she stops to marvel at his discomfiture -- "but you kind of stay in the background. Especially with Tajima yelling all the time."

Hanai opens his mouth to speak, freezes, and then decides to hell with it: "So that's why you didn't ask Tajima?"

She laughs, leans in a little bit, trails her hand ever so slightly up his thigh. "I didn't ask Tajima because I wanted to ask you."

Hanai swallows. "Oh."

Another pause. This one clearly feels too long for her: she takes his face in her hands and says, "So are you going to kiss me?"

He puts his mouth on hers, feeling awkward. It seems like she has some experience; did girls really practice, like he's heard? Or maybe she's just naturally talented -- he wouldn't be surprised -- because she's able to get them into a rhythm of sorts, of tasting and tongues.

He raises a trembling hand towards her, still unsure as to whether this is really going to happen, and puts it timidly on her back. Her breasts are just barely touching him, just grazing his chest, and her hands are at his waist, thumbs rubbing in slow synchronized circles. It's distracting, those thumbs: he wants her hands to move lower.

She pushes him down flat on the bed. She's looking at him, flushed, and Hanai has another moment of doubt. Is she going to get up and go away? Has she had enough? Is he a really bad kisser?

She only shakes her head and says, "You really think I'm going to leave now?" And then she climbs on top of him. She gives her hips a twitch, earning a gasp in response, as she settles down to kiss him. Without thinking about it, he moves his hands to the hem of her shirt, letting them slide underneath. Her skin is as soft as he would've imagined it to be -- had he ever, ever thought about her this way, ever imagined doing this with her -- and as he brings them upwards he realizes she's not wearing a bra.

She bucks her hips against him with increasing speed; it's becoming more difficult to think. "I'm going to take off your shirt," Hanai manages, but his lust-clumsy hands are too slow. She shoves his hands away and does it herself, flinging the shirt into a corner. "Here," she pants, leaning over him, and he takes the invitation, tasting her nipples, first one, then the other. He'd intended to make this a slow exploration, but her grinding against his dick spurs him to sloppy haste, licking and biting -- accidental only at first -- as he grabs her hips to grind back up against her.

"Take off your clothes," she orders, nearly tearing his shirt in her urge to remove it. The pants are more difficult, requiring her to move off him for precious seconds while he fumbles, trying to kick them off without standing up. When he's taken care of that, and his underwear, she pauses to look at him -- all of him -- before saying, "I'm ready."

Hanai swallows, torn between lust and nerves. She puts her hand on his dick and stretches out out next to him, meeting his eyes for one somber moment before she covers his mouth with hers. The kiss is a question, a request; it's one last chance to back away from this before the boundary is crossed.

"Yeah," he replies, failing to find anything more profound to say. "Um, I've got a condom?"

She smiles. "Good. Because I'd rather not have to stop now." She slides off him so that he can halfway sit up and fumble in his bedside table until he finds one.

As he tears the foil wrapper open, the condom flies out onto the bed. He picks it up and hesitates. He's never used one before -- never had to, what's there to catch from your own hand? -- and although he knows the theory, being confronted with the practice makes him squirm.

"Oh, just give me that," she says, impatient. She starts to unroll it over his dick when she catches the glance he's giving her: both aroused and slightly disappointed. "You didn't think I was going to do it with my mouth or something, did you?" she snorts, and he blushes, because even if a part of his brain did wonder that, the reality is that she's still got her hands on him and now he's ready too. Oh, he's definitely ready.

When she's done, they hesitate a moment, considering what to do next. She kisses him again. It's not quite a question, more like an experiment: _let's see what happens now._ He returns his hands to her breasts, marveling at the tautness of her nipples, and he feels her breath quicken. She pushes him down and stretches out next to him again, one leg lying in between his and their bodies touching from the waist up, skin against skin burning. Her skirt and underwear disappear, a joint effort between them, the wrenching away of the last fabric separating them from each other. He can't stop moving his hands, finding new expanses of her flesh to experience. There's the hollow of her back, right above her ass -- and there was something entirely different to be said about that -- and the softest skin of her inner thighs, and the curling hair just above, and -- beyond that -- he feels warmth and wetness, and he really suddenly needs to be inside her.

"Wait a minute," she says. "Do you have any lube?" At his look of confusion, she says, "It's a good thing I did some research," and goes to dig around in her bag, retrieving a small pink plastic container.

She returns, squeezes some of its contents into her hands, and then spreads it over her cunt, looking as if she's enjoying the sensation. It's clear she's enjoying the fact that Hanai is surpassing previously attained levels of arousal; he didn't think his dick could physically _get_ any harder. She gives herself a few more strokes -- unnecessary from a lube-spreading point of view but, oh, very necessary for the heat it's generating inside her. And inside Hanai.

"I'm going to be on top," she says. "It's supposed to be better that way. The first time," she says. "Because it might hurt." Hanai had wondered about that -- had heard that it could hurt -- but aside from a few vague health class facts about hymens and blood, he knew very little about it or what might be done to ease the pain.

"You sound like you know what you're doing," he says, nervous again.

"Well, of course I looked a few things up online." Shinooka shrugs as she straddles him. "I mean, I wanted this to be good. Don't you?" She doesn't give him a chance to reply, pressing her lips against his, forcing her tongue in his mouth, giving her pelvis a long slow roll against him. He groans in her mouth and she smiles, turned on and coy and reveling in the reactions she can coax out of him.

She takes his cock in her hand. It takes all Hanai's willpower to stay still -- he's already this close to the edge and it's not like coming in her hand would be a bad ending. Although it's not really what they're both here for, so he concentrates on not moving.

"Slowly," she cautions, as she guides him inside her, just the head of his cock, just barely there. Hanai inhales sharply and can't help but raise his hips a tiny bit.

She hisses. "Slowly, I said!" He apologizes, embarrassed and tormented. It looks like she's holding her breath as she lowers herself with excruciating lack of speed further onto him.

"H-how is that?" he breathes. She's resting herself on her elbows, rigid with anxiety.

"I don't know yet. It's tight. You're bigger than I thought," she says, petulant.

Hanai doesn't have a chance to be properly insulted by that because she's easing herself down a little more. Then there's a pause while she braces herself again. Then another centimeter, he's got another centimeter or two inside her and oh she's warm, and yeah, tight, and he doesn't want to wait at all anymore. "Please," he says. "Is there anything I can do to... help?"

"That's very sweet of you," she says. She looks away, and then suddenly she thrusts down, all the way. He's got a heartbeat to realize it, to feel it, and oh wow, can he start moving now? Because he would really like to, and --

"Fuck!" she gasps, and there's no eroticism in it, just all pain and annoyance, and she's climbing off him. He feels bad, really he does. She's inspecting herself gingerly, and he tries to focus on the fact that she's hurt. And not on the fact that she's touching herself right next to him; she's not doing it as an act of arousal but nevertheless she's touching herself _right there_.

"Well, I guess I'm technically not a virgin," she declares, and she's actually showing him blood on her fingers. He should be unnerved and he is, but he's also... still hard.

She sighs. "I think next time is going to be better. I mean, maybe it won't hurt. Or at least not as much. I don't know..." she trails off. "I just... I can't. Not right now. That really hurt! I didn't think it would be that bad. Fuck."

Hanai cringes when she stands up: is she going to leave? He really is sorry that she's in pain, but on the other hand, while he's not quite as hard as he was a few moments ago, he's not exactly flaccid either.

"Oh," she says, amused despite herself. She's noticed. "Come here." She tugs him into a sitting position against the wall, adjusts so that she's kneeling facing him on the bed. Putting one hand on his shoulder, with the other she takes his cock. "We're going to have to try this again sometime, aren't we?" she says. "Because it's true, I trust you, that's why I picked you for this. But also because you're hot." She's just started to move her hand on his dick as she meets his eyes and adds, "I wanted to see your face when you come." That's all it takes, and with a whimper that descends into a groan, he's losing himself all over her hand.

"Next time," she says, "you're going to see my face when I come." She stands up and matter-of-factly begins wiping off her hand -- Hanai had enough presence of mind to have a clean towel in the room -- and getting dressed.

"We'll practice more," she says, half promise, half command.

Later on that night, Hanai can't stop thinking about it. That look she gave him right before he came, the way he wants to touch her all over her body again and again. He wonders when "next time" will be, what she looks like when she comes. He thinks he'd better get on the internet and do some reading before then.


End file.
